eyes turned skyward
by eponnia
Summary: Hogwarts AU. Unable to afford a broomstick of her own, sixth year Éponine picks the lock of Hogwarts' broom shed and flies during the night. Her escape only lasts until she is caught by a certain seventh year. [Slytherin!Éponine, Gryffindor!Enjolras, and British!Amis. 2012 film Enjonine.]
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is set after the Second War but before the Next Generation attended Hogwarts. I know much more about Hogwarts than Beauxbatons, so Les Amis somehow become British with French names. **

**The characters from Les Mis are based on the 2012 film, but my Montparnasse is inspired by Douglas Booth and Azelma by Emma Dukes (she played Bet against Samantha Barks as Nancy in the 2011 UK tour of **_**Oliver!**_**). One or two characters from HP will appear in this story, but as it focuses on the Les Mis characters, I decided not to label it as a crossover. **

* * *

"_Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."_

― Leonardo da Vinci

* * *

A cloaked figure approached the wooden shed, pointing a slender wand to the lock on the door. As she murmured "_Alohomora_," the lock slid open, and she reached out a slender hand to push open the door.

As she stepped inside the shed, throwing back her hood, the tip of her wand glowed as she whispered _Lumos_, light filling part of the structure before her. Broomsticks, too multiple in number to count, lined the walls on racks and hung on the walls in various sizes and shapes, but the witch had eyes only for one in particular. Not daring to summon all the Nimbus 2000s in the shed, she removed one from a rack by hand, the black broom light in her grasp.

Exiting the shed and locking it behind her, Éponine Thénardier relocked the door to the shed behind her, stored her wand under her cloak, mounted the broom, and flew.

She aimed the Nimbus 2000 up towards the night sky, grasping the handle tightly as her long dark hair streamed behind her. The tension in Éponine's shoulders began to dissipate, her body relaxing as she soared through the air on the broom.

The sixth year had not made it a habit to break into the shed and… _borrow_ one of the most high-end and expensive brooms on the market belonging to another student, but guilt was not the foremost emotion on her radar as she flew, free from anxiety and memories. Éponine aimed the broom higher, feeling the wind nip at her cheeks and tug lightly at her hair. The Slytherin was only sixteen, but, to an observer, possessed the cunning of a woman twice her age. Perhaps she might have been sorted into Ravenclaw if life had turned out differently, but, considering her family heritage, it seemed she was destined for the House of the Serpent.

But it was her family heritage that sent her looking for an escape in the first place.

Paying for all of her school supplies herself at the age of eleven by working odd jobs while her parents conned anything that moved, she went to Hogwarts and intended to never look back. The first year her plan worked, ignoring her tie to any home but the school during the terms, but when she returned to home during the summer, her father started to take out his anger at the way his life had turned out on his eldest daughter. Twelve-year-old Éponine bore the brunt of the abuse to shield her younger siblings, Azelma and Gavroche, from the worst of it, and her sister escaped it soon enough when she came to Hogwarts a year after Éponine. Then the sisters returned home the summer after Éponine's second year and Azelma's first to find that their father was hitting the then-ten-year-old Gavroche.

Éponine had never been so relieved as when Gavroche received his Hogwarts letter, even then when she had gotten her own, because that meant that the bruises on her brother's body would fade and new ones would not take their place, at least while they were at school. Paying for all of Gavroche's supplies with her meager savings as she had done for Azelma, she herded her siblings onto the Hogwarts Express train and was determined to forget their home life.

However, that was easier said than done. Her surname, fairly well-known for crime connotations in the wizarding world, coupled with her house, made nearly the entire school distrust her on first glance, and even Slytherins avoided her. Azelma, in Hufflepuff, was generally more accepted with a small group of friends, and Gavroche was well-liked in Gryffindor.

Éponine's only friend was Marius Pontmercy.

They had met first year in Potions when both their partners had been absent in class that day, and had been paired together. Their task during that particular class period was to brew the Forgetfulness Potion, but Marius' talent did not lie in the subject. The Gryffindor almost put in three Valerian sprigs into the cauldron instead of two, and would have forgotten the mistletoe berries if Éponine hadn't reminded him. Normally she would have been exasperated by his absentmindedness, but he was one of the few people she had encountered at Hogwarts who showed no distaste at being subjected to her company. That, and he was funny, honest, and had the greenest eyes and the most freckles she had ever seen.

After that day, their normal partners had returned, but Éponine decided to pursue her connection, however brief it had been, with Marius. As they became friends, she learned that he was a wealthy Muggle family, and his grandfather had almost disowned him when he learned his grandson was a wizard. She told him of her siblings and edited her description of her home life, telling him her parents still owned the inn.

He introduced her to his group of friends, consisting of six boys their same age and two a year older. Éponine had immediately befriended Gryffindor Francis Courfeyrac, an almost obnoxious but well-meaning flirt, and the sarcastic but loyal Raphael Grantaire, a Slytherin she had never met previously. Jean Prouvaire, Hugo Bossuet, and Matthias Feuilly were all from Hufflepuff and Louis Bahorel from Gryffindor while Lucas Joly, a Ravenclaw, wanted to become a mediwizard but was a hypochondriac. His fellow Ravenclaw, Leopold Combeferre, was one of the two older boys, a patient, kind-hearted soul that Éponine immediately liked. The other boy in Combeferre's year was Gabriel Enjolras.

If anyone could have singlehandedly represented Gryffindor, Enjolras was a perfect fit in Éponine's opinion. He seemed a physical embodiment of the house's traditional characteristics – determination, chivalry, and bravery. He was a very serious student who did not care for frivolity; Éponine wondered on occasion why he had befriended some of the members of the group in the first place. He had apparently known since age eleven that he wanted to become an Auror, and that decision had never wavered over his time at Hogwarts. Enjolras also happened to be very attractive, receiving the attentions of practically every girl – and some boys – at the school, but he did not seem interested in relationships deeper than friendship. As the years passed, another aspect that added to Enjolras' appeal amongst the general student body was his position as Gryffindor's Chaser and appointment as that house's Quidditch captain; Courfeyrac and Bahorel played for Gryffindor as well, as a Keeper and a Beater, respectively. Éponine knew Enjolras the least of any of the group, feeling slightly intimidated by the older boy's somewhat distant nature.

But just when she had thought her friendship with Marius could turn into something else the end of their second year, he had met Cosette in Herbology. Suddenly his entire world consisted of the blonde, blue-eyed Hufflepuff. He did not completely abandon his circle of friends, but missed group gatherings in favor of Cosette. When he did attend, he managed to interject his girlfriend's name into any conversation. In the middle of their fifth year Éponine drifted from the group, though most of the members tried to reach out to her.

All of this culminated in her sixth year with Éponine breaking into the broom shed.

She relished the feeling of near weightlessness as she guided the broom even higher, soaring above the castle itself. Turning the broom, she flew toward the Quidditch pitch, weaving around and through the goal posts and the stands. As the moon moved from behind a cloud, Éponine turned the broom and flew to the shed, half-desiring to stay in the air forever but knowing the broom had to be returned before she was caught. Sweeping low across the grass as she approached the building, she halted and dismounted the broom, opening the door with the Unlocking Charm and closed it behind her as she entered. Just as she replaced the Nimbus 2000 in its rack, the door creaked opened.

Éponine immediately whirled, instinctively raising her wand. "_Stupefy_!"

The person raised their wand, saying "_Protego!_" at the same moment she had cast the Stunning Spell and effectively blocking her charm. The red and blue spells collided, the light obscuring her view of the person for a moment, but she kept her wand raised as the spells dissipated. Éponine almost spoke the counter-spell _Nox_, to the person's incantation of _Lumos_, but despite her instinct wanted to be able to see her confronter.

"What are you doing here?" Enjolras asked, his golden hair catching some of the light emitting from his wand.

"I could be asking you the same thing," she replied, keeping her wand at the ready while Enjolras lowered his, light still emitting from the tip.

"I noticed someone opening the broom shed from the Gryffindor tower. Someone that turned out to be you," he said. "You are free to lower your wand, Éponine. I'm not here to hex you," he added. She slowly did as he said, though keeping a firm grip on her wand as he continued.

"So what are you here to do, then? Turn me in?" she asked.

"I'll answer that when you reply to my question."

She said nothing for a moment, trying to come up with a valid excuse. "I borrowed a broom," Éponine finally admitted, meeting Enjolras' blue gaze. She knew she was convincing liar but was not above facing consequences. Bluntness saved misunderstanding and confusion.

"Why did you borrow a broom?"

"To fly," she deadpanned.

"Do you not own a broom yourself?"

"I can't afford one," she said, forcing herself not to lower her eyes to her shoes in embarrassment. When faced with one of the school's wealthiest students, she would rather take insults than the pity she loathed.

"Did you get permission to borrow the broom?"

"No."

"You stole it, then."

His words were not a question, but she replied anyway. "Technically. But I returned it, as you can see."

"Why did you take it only to return it?"

"I needed some time to myself, alright?" she snapped, growing annoyed at his questioning. "Stop grilling me."

"I'm not-"

"Use whatever word you want. Interrogation, cross-examination, whatever. But you are trying to back me into a corner. Don't deny it."

Enjolras' lips formed a thin line. "I do not wish to frighten you-"

"_Frighten_ me?" She gave a mirthless laugh. "You'd have to do more than yell to scare a Thénardier."

She immediately regretted mentioning her heritage, but Enjolras did not react to her remark. "I did not mean to yell at you. But as long as you intend to continue your escapades-"

"My what?" she asked. No one could say Éponine wasn't smart – if life had turned out differently she almost definitely would have been in Ravenclaw – but Enjolras' lofty, picturesque words sometimes were beyond her understanding.

"Escapades," he repeated. When she started at him blankly, he continued. "Adventures, if you will."

"Oh."

"If you plan on doing this again, I have no choice but to turn you in."

"Now?" she cried, incredulous. "It's the middle of the night!" Éponine felt exasperation building inside her, and suddenly she couldn't hold it back.

"You want to know why I did this?" she said. "Because I needed to get away from it all. No, not from the homework, or anything, but the stares that I get from the other students, convinced I'm going to hex them with an Unforgivable Curse. Even Moaning Myrtle kicked me out of the girl's bathroom because she didn't want to be around a _Thénardier_." She drew in a breath. "I'm trying to get away from the reputation that follows me everywhere, a reputation I didn't create." She was spitting the words through clenched teeth. "My father did. And my mother. I didn't ask to be their daughter!"

Éponine met Enjolras' gaze fiercely. "And just when I thought I might have a friend, just _one_ bloody friend, Marius turns around and gets together with that blonde Hufflepuff! Is it too much to ask for a _hour_ away from it all?"

Her chest heaved as she finished ranting, feeling like a child for whining but refusing to recant her words. Enjolras' piercing blue eyes locked with hers, and then he took a step back. "Goodnight, Éponine."

"Aren't you going to turn me in?" she demanded, taking a step forward.

"As you said, it is the middle of the night. Get some sleep."

He stepped out the door of the broom shed and shut it behind him.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those of you have been reading my other works, I have decided to take a break from **_**Deal the Cards, Let Them Fall**_**, and **_**Then I defy you, stars**_**. However, I have not abandoned them.**

**I originally intended this to be a one-shot, but decided to continue it. It will be roughly the length of a novella, with only about nine or ten chapters.**

**I hoped you enjoyed **_**eyes turned skyward**_**!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for all the reviews!**

* * *

Éponine was confused by Enjolras' behavior, but decided not to push her luck and stayed away from the Gryffindor. When she went to the Great Hall for breakfast, she heard Grantaire's voice, and looked to see him waving her over from the Slytherin table. "You got a package!" he said with a grin as she approached. "It's just arrived by owl."

"For me?" she asked, genuinely confused. The only people to give her gifts were her siblings, and they were already at Hogwarts, rendering a delivery by owl unnecessary.

"Yeah," Grantaire replied with a shrug. "It's pretty obvious what it is."

An object lay on the surface of the table wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, a note attached to the parcel. It was long and thin, with one end significantly larger than the other and ending in a point.

"A broom…" she said under her breath, more confused than ever. Éponine untied the string and unceremoniously ripped open the paper, revealing a Nimbus 2000. As her fellow Slytherin admired the broom, she read the note.

_Daytime flying is a much more rewarding escapade_

Éponine immediately looked to the Gryffindor table across the room. Marius, Courfeyrac, and Bahorel sat together, conversing, but the object of her search was nowhere to be found. A head of golden curls caught her eye as her gaze fell on the doorway of the Great Hall, and she grabbed the broom and hurried out the door of the hall, determined to catch Enjolras.

When she exited the Great Hall, she scanned the crowded hallway, searching for his distinctive profile. Seeing him almost at the end of the hallway and about to turn the corner, she rushed through the crowd, and approached him just as he turned the corner.

"Enjolras!" she called.

As he turned to face her, Éponine shoved the broom at him. "What in the name of Merlin is this supposed to mean?"

"I see you received the note," he replied far too calmly for her liking.

"I'm not stupid, Enjolras," she spat. "I knew it was you. Did you honestly think that I wouldn't know who sent it?"

"I never said–"

"I'm not going to take it," she interrupted angrily.

"It's a gift," he said, holding the broom out to her, but she only crossed her arms across her chest. "I insist."

"I don't take charity."

"Éponine-"

"I'm not going to take it just so you can feel better about the fact that you helped the poor hated girl."

"I didn't-"

"We can do this all day, but I'm still not going to take it."

"Éponine," he cut in, features serious as he leaned towards her, and she looked into his blue eyes. "If nothing else, take it for the sake of whoever owns the broom you've been… borrowing."

There was a moment of tense silence between them. Without a word but a furious glare, Éponine grabbed the broom, turned on her heel, and stormed back into the Great Hall.

* * *

Two days later, Éponine found Enjolras with his group of friends by the Black Lake, talking beneath the tall beech tree. Their conversation ceased as she approached, but after six years of this treatment, she was not fazed.

"Enjolras, I need to talk to you," she said. "Alone."

Courfeyrac and Grantaire gave each other knowing grins as Enjolras left the group and walked with Éponine out of hearing distance of his friends.

"I want you to teach my sister and brother how to fly," she said.

"Don't they know already?" he inquired.

"They have the basics, yes, but I would like them to learn more."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Will you do it?" she countered, pointedly refusing his question.

"Of course, but I would like to know why."

"What time works for you? I'd prefer it be somewhere where the entire school isn't watching."

"The Quidditch pitch at eight? We can start tonight. Do your siblings have brooms?"

"Only my brother does."

"Can your sister borrow yours?"

Éponine shook her head. "We need another one."

"Did something happen to yours?" Enjolras pressed, and she glared at him, annoyed that he wasn't letting the matter go.

"Just get another one, alright? See you at eight," Éponine threw over her shoulder, starting to walk away.

"Éponine!" Enjolras called, and she turned. "For curiosity's sake, why didn't you ask Madam Hooch? Why me?"

She almost said, _Because I trust you more._ _Because Madam Hooch probably would have turned me in, but you didn't._

"You're a Quidditch captain," she said instead with a shrug, meeting his gaze. "I assume that means you're qualified." Éponine knew he guessed she wasn't telling him to real truth, but he did not press further.

"See you at eight, then," he said after a moment.

Éponine nodded and turned away, listening to Enjolras' friends' voices rise and fall as she left.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me Enjolras asked you out?" Azelma asked as she took a seat across from Éponine at lunch the next day. The Slytherins seated nearby gave the Hufflepuff girl annoyed looks for sitting at their table, but Azelma's focus was on her older sister.

"He didn't ask me out," Éponine replied.

"The entire school says he did," Azelma countered. "Yesterday, at the Black Lake."

"Well, the entire school needs to know to stop spreading rumors."

"So he didn't ask you out?" Azelma asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

Éponine shook her head. "I asked him a question. That's all."

"What did you ask?"

"If he could give you and Gavroche flying lessons."

"Why?" Azelma asked, but Éponine did not respond, twisting a strand of her dark hair around her index finger. "It's because of Father, isn't it?" the blonde girl said quietly.

Éponine finally looked at her sister. "Yes. I want you and Gavroche to be able to get away if you need to."

"But we don't have brooms-"

"Gavroche does," Éponine said. "Nimbus 2000. Don't ask where I got it." As Azelma's look of shock turned to one of skepticism, Éponine added shortly, "I didn't steal it, if that's what you want to know."

"So when's the lesson?"

"Tonight at eight. The Quidditch pitch."

"I won't ask where you got a Nimbus 2000" her sister said after a moment, "but three people can't fit on one broom, 'Ponine."

Éponine shrugged.

"Where does that leave you?" Azelma questioned.

"I can take care of myself," Éponine replied. "It's you and Gavroche I'm worried about."

* * *

She saw surprise flick in Enjolras' blue eyes when Gavroche came up to him with the Nimbus 2000. The older Gryffindor's gaze went from the broom to Éponine, realization settling in his features, but, to her relief, he said nothing of her re-gifting.

Éponine watched from a few feet away as Enjolras spoke. "You both know how to fly a broom, correct?" he asked Azelma and Gavroche, the former using Comet 290, lent by Combeferre. At the siblings' nods, Enjolras continued. "Your sister has asked me to show you the finer points of handling brooms, and I will do so to the best of my ability."

As he instructed proper handle grip and direction, Éponine took a seat in the grass, folding her long legs in a crisscross position as she observed the Gryffindor. When he spoke, his usually serious expression became passionate and dynamic, a slight smile gracing his features when his temporary pupils did well, an encouraging tone in his voice when they wavered. The siblings flew around the pitch, Gavroche struggling somewhat with the advanced broom but bravely pressing on, and Azelma hesitant in her abilities but heartened by Enjolras' words.

"I was also asked to prepare you for handling a broom carrying two people, which is slightly different than flying solo," Enjolras said when Gavroche and Azelma had returned to the field, brooms laying on the grass beside them. The Gryffindor, holding his own Firebolt in hand, turned in Éponine's direction, and she knew what he was going to ask even before he spoke.

"Éponine, would you do me the honor of demonstrating your request?"

She stood. "'Do you the honor'? What, are we in the eighteen hundreds?" Éponine said, but still went to Enjolras' side.

He ignored her jibe. "The lighter of the pair should be in the back so the weight on the handle of the broom will be displaced for steering," Enjolras said, mounting his broom. Wordlessly, Éponine mounted the broom behind him, sitting close to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, keeping her face carefully blank as Azelma grinned.

"In some circumstances, you might find steering a bit more difficult, if the weight added is substantial, but in this case, or in any combination the three of you, the broom should be practically the same as before. However," he said, "if all three of you rode a broom together, you may experience some slight difficulty, though in your case, it would be minor."

After that detailed speech, Enjolras aimed the broom up and took off.

"Did you ever actually ride the Nimbus?" he said over his shoulder, his voice raised over the wind. She clung to him, tighter than she would have liked but having no other choice.

"No," she replied, the wind tugging at her dark hair that flew in practically every direction; she regretted wearing it loose. "I gave it to Gavroche right after you made me take it back."

"That was a kind gesture," he said as he turned the broom in the direction of her siblings standing on the field and looking impossibly small as Éponine realized just how high they had flown. "But I meant it for you."

"He needs it more than I do," Éponine replied, but the breath was ripped from her lungs as the broom shot through the air. When they stopped in front Gavroche and Azelma, Éponine dismounted quickly, removing her arms from Enjolras' waist and cursing her self-control as her legs wavered slightly.

"Are you alright?" Enjolras asked, a touch of concern in his voice as she fought to walk in a straight line. "I apologize, I should not have flown at such a high speed."

"It's fine," Éponine said shortly, trying to catch her breath. "Gav, 'Zelma, curfew's almost up. Hurry back to your common rooms before they find you're missing." Her siblings obeyed instantly, only to give Éponine the Nimbus 2000 and Enjolras the Comet 290 that belonged to Combeferre before leaving. As the seventh and sixth year returned the brooms to the shed, he broke the silence that had fallen between them.

"I could teach you more about flying, if you'd like."

"Thanks, but it was just for them," she replied as they walked together to the door, Enjolras' illuminated wand lighting the shed.

"Any particular reason why?" he questioned, pausing at the doorway.

"They need it more than me," she said. There was no way she was going to tell him the truth.

Enjolras appeared as if he wanted to question her further, but only gestured to the door. "After you."

"And people say chivalry is dead," she commented as she went through the door, trying to lighten the conversation, but her thoughts turned of their own accord to her father's gang of thugs.

"I'd like to believe there's some left in the world," Enjolras answered, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"You're one of the few," Éponine said under her breath, and a quick glance at Enjolras told her that he had heard her bitter words. _He's not stupid, 'Ponine. Quit talking in double meanings or he'll figure out the truth. And that's the last thing you want to happen._

"May I walk you to your common room?" he asked.

"Trying to spy on the Slytherins?" she said in a teasing tone, desperate to turn the conversation from where it had almost strayed, to the subject of her past.

He shook his head, a golden curl falling onto his forehead. "It's the polite thing to do."

She almost refused his offer, but bit her lip. "Fine. You can walk me there, Mr. Chivalrous."

Enjolras followed Éponine into the belly of Hogwarts as they made their way through the dungeons of the castle. The Gryffindor knew the Slytherin dormitories were beneath the Black Lake, but despite the fact that a large body of water miles deep was only feet above the ceiling, the stone passageway was dry.

They came to what seemed to be a dead end, the stone wall covered in carvings standing before them. "Well, this is it," Éponine said, turning to Enjolras. "I may have shown you how to get here, but I'm not telling you the password."

"Of course." He took a step back. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," she replied, but as he began to walk away, she spoke again. "Enjolras."

He turned.

"Thanks."

He gave her a nod, knowing the serious expression on her face was telling him that she was thanking him for more than walking with her. "You're welcome."

As Enjolras reached the stairs, he took one more look back down the passageway, but Éponine was gone.

He quickened his pace as he began the long trek from the dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady with a minute to spare. To his surprise, Gavroche sat on the floor by the painting, leaning against the wall.

"Hey, Enjolras!" the eleven-year-old said, leaping to his feet. "The Fat lady won't let me in."

"He didn't remember the password," the woman in the portrait said.

"_Volatus_," Enjolras said, and the portrait swung open as the Fat Lady grumbled. Gavroche scrambled inside, and as Enjolras stepped over the threshold, the translation for the Latin password came to mind.

_Flight_ was a fitting word indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: For a sixth year Hogwarts student, Ancient Runes class is on Monday, but I put it further in the week so a conversation of sorts could happen in the middle of the week before the weekend. This doesn't apply much in this chapter, as it is mentioned only briefly, but if anyone was confused, I wanted to explain.**

**I realize that **_**mademoiselle, monsieur**_**,****and**_** madame**_** would normally be used, but in this story, everyone is British, so Miss, Mrs. Mr., etc., will be used instead. Yes, it weirds me out as well, with France itself ingrained so deeply into the characters from **_**Les Misérables**_**, but it would be unrealistic for French honorifics to be used for British characters.**

* * *

Éponine was heading back across the courtyard when she heard voices - voices that were mocking, defiant, and far too familiar in turns. As the sixth year approached the tree in the corner of the courtyard, she saw four tall figures clad in green and black robes and a smaller yellow-haired first year boy before them. Just as one of seventh years shoved the younger boy to the grass, his friends laughing as the first year scrambled to his feet, Éponine called out.

"Leave him alone!"

The group turned, and Éponine was faced with Montparnasse, a fellow Slytherin and seventh year that she had grown up with back home. His brown hair fell into his eyes as a smirk crossed his ruggedly handsome features.

'Well, well, well," he said, fingering his wand. "Come to save your brother, have you?"

"Just leave him alone," she said firmly, lifting her chin and meeting his gaze with a glare. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her brother try to slip away, and she shifted, trying to block Montparnasse's view of Gavroche. The seventh year saw the eleven-year-old and lifted his wand, aiming it at the first year and sending a silver spell at him. Suddenly Gavroche was pulled back as if by an invisible hand, and deposited, struggling, at Montparnasse's feet.

"Stop it!" Éponine cried, trying to grab her fellow Slytherin's wand, but one of Montparnasse's friends stepped forward and pressed his own wand to her throat, keeping her at bay.

"Careful, Thénardier," Montparnasse said. "You're becoming noble enough to fit in with the Gryffindors, just like the Quidditch captain you're fuc-"

Éponine shoved the wand at her throat away and punched Montparnasse squarely in the nose.

Just as his friends yelled hexes, pointing their wands at her, a volley of spells suddenly came hurtling through the air behind her as voices shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!" Éponine ducked and reached for Gavroche, trying to pull him away, and Montparnasse and his friends were disarmed. Their leader was left holding a hand to his nose as blood trickled through his fingers, and Éponine looked behind her.

Enjolras and Combeferre stood a few feet away, wands raised. Montparnasse took a step back as the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw approached, and Enjolras spoke.

"Leave them alone, or you'll get worse than a Disarming Spell," he said in a commanding tone. "Don't touch either of them again." The clearly intimidated Montparnasse turned and left quickly, his friends close behind.

"Are you two alright?" Combeferre asked, kneeling before Éponine and Gavroche, who were still sitting on the grass. The first year replied in the affirmative as his sister nodded.

"Thanks," the eleven-year-old said. "Without you, I might have bitten dust."

_And what about me?_ Éponine thought.

"I'm sure it wouldn't have come to that," Combeferre reasoned, but Éponine wasn't so sure.

"What happened?" Enjolras questioned as the siblings and his friend stood.

"I saw that they were pushing him around," she replied, "so I stepped in." _And clearly I can't even protect my own brother_, she added bitterly in her head.

"They were talking bad about 'Ponine," Gavroche offered, looking at Enjolras. "They were saying you and she were-"

"We know what they meant," Éponine cut in. "But it isn't true."

"After today they hopefully will stop spreading rumors," Enjolras said.

"It'll take more than a bloody nose and Disarming spells to do that," she replied.

"Did they hurt you?" Combeferre asked, turning his attention to Gavroche.

"No."

"You're sure?" Éponine pressed.

Gavroche nodded.

"If you see them-"

"Run away, I know," Gavroche replied.

"Professors will stop them as well," Combeferre put in.

"Try running first," Éponine said with a strained smile. "Now hurry, or you'll be late to your next class."

As Gavroche left, Éponine turned to see the two seventh years exchanging a glance at her insistence for her brother not to ask an adult for help, but thankfully neither commented on the subject.

"Nice hit," Combeferre said in the slightly awkward silence that followed.

"Oh, thanks," Éponine said, looking down at her bruised knuckles.

"Madam Pompfrey could fix that bruise," Enjolras said, taking a step forward, extending a hand to hers, but Éponine hid her hand in her robes, taking a step back.

"I'll be fine. Thanks, by the way," she said as she turned on her heel and left.

* * *

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Éponine did not turn at the sound of Enjolras' voice in the darkness as a breeze swept past her robe, her grasp loosening ever so slightly on the handle of the Nimbus 2000. Her dark hair provided a curtain as her gaze rested on the Quidditch pitch hundreds of yards below them. Enjolras moved his own broom so he faced her as they hung in the air, their brooms wavering slightly as they stalled. "I need to ask you something."

Only then did she look up, her own brown eyes meeting his blue ones in the darkness.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

She shook her head. "I never go."

"You've never gone?" he asked.

"I went once," she amended, but offered no other explanation.

"Would you consider going this weekend?"

Despite herself, her hopes rose.

"The group is going, and we'd like you to come," he continued, and her heart beat painfully in her chest.

_Of course he wasn't going to ask you out_, she told herself firmly. _It's always going to be just as friends. And we're barely even that. _

"I don't think I'll be able to make it," she said, realizing he was waiting for a reply, and aimed her broom towards the broom shed, leaving him behind.

She faintly heard him calling her name over the wind that whistled past her as she flew, but Éponine chose to ignore him. When she landed in front of the shed and unlocked it to slip inside, she considered locking Enjolras out but realized it would be a childish action. He came in just as she put the broom on the rack.

"Éponine."

Despite herself, she turned to face him. His golden curls were windswept, and framed his face. "Clearly you are mad at me. What did I say to upset you?"

_He doesn't deserve a reply_, the cynical side of her whispered in her head. _Tell him to get out. _

But she ignored that side.

"I thought..." _You can't tell him you wanted him to ask you to Hogsmeade. Absolutely not._

"What?" he asked, a touch of concern in his voice.

_Do not tell him. _

"Nothing," she finally said.

"Éponine..."

"Leave me alone, would you? Merlin," she said as she brushed past him out of the shed, not caring in the least if anyone heard the door slam behind her.

* * *

She was in Ancient Runes when a note landed on her desk. Looking up, she saw Grantaire across the room gesturing her to read it. Unfolding the scrap of parchment, her brown eyes scanned the words scrawled on the paper in Grantaire's messy handwriting.

_Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend? _

Éponine looked up at him and shook her head.

He wrote something down on another scrap of paper and enchanted it to fly to her desk.

_Please?_

She resisted rolling her eyes, wrote a quick reply, and sent it back to him.

_Fine_

* * *

Éponine regretted agreeing to go to Hogsmeade but decided not to back out, meeting the group of seventh years and her fellow sixth years for the walk to the village outside Hogwarts. She had forged signatures from her parents on the permission slips for herself and her siblings, a useful skill she had acquired over the years. Seeing Enjolras almost made her turn back, but she walked with Grantaire the entire way, who commented that Marius and Cosette were going separately from the group to Hogsmeade.

When they arrived in the village, snow began to fall lightly, a result of Hogsmeade being above the snow line. Éponine declined Grantaire's offer of his coat as she began to shiver slightly, and stopped when they passed Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop on the way to the Three Broomsticks.

Marius and Cosette were inside, the Gryffindor laughing at something the blonde Hufflepuff had said. Éponine felt a hand on her elbow and turned to see Grantaire giving her a look of empathy, but she pulled her arm out of his grasp and went into the Three Broomsticks. Slipping into a chair at the table of the group just as the waitressing witch asked for their orders, Éponine asked for butterbeer. As the waitress left, Éponine caught sight of Montparnasse, his nose repaired, out the window, towering over Azelma in the middle of the street.

She was on her feet instantly, ignoring the confused questions of the group of students as she exited the building. Stepping onto the snowy street, she ignored the frigid air as she approached fellow Slytherin and her sister. Azelma's eyes widened as she saw Éponine, and her expression clearly tipped off Montparnasse, who looked over his shoulder to see the dark-haired girl. Putting an arm around Azelma's shoulders, he gave her a lazy grin. "Looking for more trouble, Thénardier?"

"Let go of my sister," Éponine all but growled.

"Why should I? She came of her own accord."

"You're lying," she said in what she hoped was a firm voice, but it wavered ever so slightly. She remembered her sister's glances at Montparnasse whenever he walked by, hearing Azelma whisper to a friend about the Slytherin, trying once or twice to make small talk with the seventh year.

"I asked her to come. She's here with me of her own accord. Deal with it, Thénardier." As Éponine stared in shock at Azelma, Montparnasse removed his arm from around the Hufflepuff's shoulder and grabbed her arm. "Let's go, 'Zelm." The blonde winced slightly at his rough tug as they began to move away.

"_Flipendo_!" Éponine cried, raising her wand and aiming it at Montparnasse.

He was hurled back, releasing Azelma as he was physically thrown by the spell across the street, his body slamming into a brick wall before falling to the ground in a heap of limbs, the Slytherin almost unconscious from the impact.

Now it was Azelma's turn to give her sister a shocked, almost horrified look as people on the street began running towards them. Éponine heard the voices of her group of friends behind her, Grantaire's voice rising above the rest as he swore. Some people went to Montparnasse's side to see if he was injured while others turned to stare at her, but they all had one thing in common – no one dared to come near her. Even Azelma took a step back.

"What has happened here?" came a booming voice, and Éponine looked up to see Professor Javert as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's penetrating gaze swept the street.

"She did it!" came a voice out of the crowd.

"It was her! Éponine Thénardier!"

"He wasn't even doing anything!"

"She hexed him for no reason!"

"Silence!" Javert ordered, and the crowd complied immediately. "Detention for you, Miss Thénardier," the Ravenclaw house head said, "and ten points from Slytherin. Someone take the boy to the hospital wing."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially ShipperBody, Amazingly Brilliant, and tinmiss1939. I truly appreciate every review I receive.**

**I'm not terribly happy with this chapter, but the next one is better.**

* * *

"Hey, Éponine!"

"I really don't have time for this," she said with a sigh as Marius jogged the last few feet towards her, annoyance growing as he held out an envelope.

Wait. Why was she annoyed with him? _Marius_, of all people?

"Could you deliver something for me?" he asked as other students in the hallway pushed past them.

"Can't you owl it yourself?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, Cosette says she likes Muggle practices. She told me she finds them fascinating..."

Éponine sighed as he rambled. "Marius!" she snapped.

"What?"

"I can't get into the Hufflepuff dormitories. How am I supposed to give it to her?"

"You're going to have detention with her father. Give it to him, but tell him not read it."

"Then he'll definitely read it." Éponine unfolded her arms and put her hands on her hips. "Marius, have you even told Cosette's father that you're dating his daughter?"

"Erm, no."

"Marius, I can't do this-"

"Please, 'Ponine?" he asked, green eyes hopeful.

Éponine sighed, taking the letter from him. "Whatever. I'll do it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He threw his arms around her, practically suffocating her in his embrace. Marius released her, thanking her before disappearing into the crowd. As she began to make her way through the crush of people, she saw Enjolras across the hallway, a serious expression of what resembled disappointment on his features. Pushing the though aside, she made her way to the Transfiguration classroom.

"Welcome, Miss Thénardier," Fauchelevant said from his seat behind his desk, giving her a warm smile as she stepped into the room. Éponine shoved the letter in her jeans pocket as she crossed the room.

"Professor."

"I'm glad you came, as I need some assistance in my inventory of class supplies," the Transfiguration teacher said. "Would you care to have a seat?" he said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk, and she took a seat.

"Before we begin, I would like to ask you something," he said, folding his hand and resting them on the surface of the desk. "I was not able to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, and I wanted to hear the full story of what happened."

"I'm sure you've heard the gossip," she replied.

"But only you know the truth," Fauchelevant countered.

Éponine looked at him for a moment, and then spoke. "During the week, Montparnasse and his friends were pushing my younger brother around. Gavroche is only a first year, so I stepped in and punched Montparnasse," she explained, leaving out Enjolras and Combeferre's involvement. "When I went to Hogsmeade, I found out he had invited my sister, Azelma. He kind of grabbed her, so I guess I just snapped and gave him the Knockback Jinx." She met Fauchelevant's gaze. "I didn't mean for him to get hurt that badly." _But it was a bonus_, she added in her head.

"While your actions at Hogsmeade were perhaps extreme," the professor reasoned, "I do understand where you were coming from. Was this boy punished?"

She shook her head. _The bloody git_.

"I am sorry that you had to deal with this while he went free," Fauchelevant said, "and I will talk to the Slytherin house head. Out of curiosity, I noticed that your tale described a very prominent, near parental streak for your siblings. Is everything alright at home?"

"Fine," she said curtly.

"Let's start the inventory, shall we?" Fauchelevant said. Éponine nodded, grateful he had not tried to press her for more information about her home life.

* * *

Éponine had just unlocked the broom shed that evening when she heard footsteps behind her. Looking over her shoulder quickly, she saw Enjolras, but the sight of him caused more tension to grip her slender frame.

"How was detention?" he asked.

"Fine," she said with a shrug. "Fauchelevant actually asked me for my side of the story about the Hogsmeade fiasco."

"I'm sorry we couldn't help-"

"I had it handled, alright?" she snapped, but sighed. "Sorry. It's been a long day." Éponine looked as she heard something in the darkness, but when she looked for the source, she saw nothing. _Stop being so paranoid_.

"Do you think they will let you return to Hogsmeade?"

She let out a mirthless laugh. "What do you think?"

"What are you two doing out here?"

Éponine whirled to see Mr. Filch shuffling across the grass towards them, holding a lantern aloft. The Hogwarts caretaker was old, nearing ancient, his scraggly hair a greasy white, skin wrinkled, and thin figure stooped. Rumor had it that Filch had taken part in the famed Battle of Hogwarts and helped rebuild the school, but his personality had not changed in the slightest. If anything, the Squib had become even more uptight about the rules after his cat Mrs. Norris died.

"We-" Éponine began.

"I was showing her the broom shed," Enjolras lied.

"Come with me," the old caretaker said. "The Headmistress can deal with you."

* * *

"Argus, I don't see how this warranted you waking up half the school in the middle of the night," Minerva McGonagall said, pushing her glasses up her nose, "but thank you for being observant. I will deal with the students." Filch, muttering under his breath, left the Headmistress' office, and McGonagall turned to Enjolras and Éponine.

"Care to explain why you were both out of bed at nearly midnight?" she asked. McGonagall had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, and had succeeded Albus Dumbledore, a wizard Éponine had never met but had heard many stories about. The Headmistress had been governing the school for nine years running, her thinning gray hair streaked with white.

"He was showing me his Firebolt in the broom shed," Éponine said, and McGonagall gave her a stern look as the sixth year blushed uncharacteristically. "We weren't doing _that_!"

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Enjolras?" McGonagall asked.

"Éponine explained everything," he replied.

"I do not understand why you couldn't look in the broom shed during the day," the Headmistress said. "Furthermore, neither of you should be out of bed at this late hour. Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Enjolras, and I will talk to your House head, Miss Thénardier. I want both of you to return to your dormitories immediately. No detours. Report to me tomorrow morning for detention instructions. Off you go."

The two students made their way to the door, but Éponine stopped as McGonagall said her name. "I'm sorry, dear, but you are not allowed to go to Hogsmeade until after the Christmas holidays."

Éponine almost began to explain her side of the story of what happened between her and Montparnasse, but left without a word.

* * *

"You two must be Gabriel and Éponine," Professor Longbottom said with a smile, his Scottish accent friendly, as the two students stood in his office.

She nodded as the seventh year at her side said, "I prefer to be called Enjolras, actually."

Most people would have taken the Gryffindor's comment in stride, but the Herbology professor asked, "And why is that, Enjolras?"

"I'm named after my father," the student said. "Three generations before me had the name. I didn't want to be known as Gabriel IV."

"Wanted to make a name for yourself, then?" At the seventh year's nod, the professor said, "Fair enough. So what exactly did you do to land you in detention?" Longbottom inquired.

"We were in the broom shed late last night," Éponine said, speaking for the first time since they had arrived in Longbottom's office.

The professor looked her straight in the eye, but his tone was still friendly as he asked, "What were you really doing?"

Éponine exchanged a confused glance with Enjolras as the professor continued. "I'm not looking to get you in trouble. I've been around the two of you long enough to know you probably aren't the type to snog in a corner." As Éponine tried to keep herself from turning red, Longbottom continued. "I went to school with Harry Potter, for goodness' sake! I know that students do have tasks and whatnot to accomplish, whatever they may be."

"Did you say Harry Potter?" Enjolras asked.

"I did."

"You went to school with the Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived-"

"The Chosen One, the defeater of Voldemort? Yes, the Harry Potter." The professor opened a drawer in his desk and rummaged for a moment before pulling out a single Galleon. "This is how we communicated in Dumbledore's Army during the second War," Longbottom said, handing it to Enjolras.

"Didn't he lead the group?" the student asked.

"Yes," the professor said. "Harry was in charge of teaching a group of students, myself included, defensive spells, because at the time there was no Defense Against the Dark Arts class, not really." As Enjolras inspected the coin, Éponine looked up at the Herbology teacher as he continued. "You may not like Professor Javert, but he's better than Amycus and Alecto Carrow. Even Snape would have been better than the Carrows."

Éponine had heard the name Snape before. "Why?"

"The Carrows told us to use the Crutiartus Curse on first years."

Éponine paled uncharacteristically at the thought of a professor torturing Gavroche as Enjolras looked up sharply.

"They were Death Eaters," Longbottom explained, and Éponine looked at her shoes as the professor continued. "They were appointed by Voldemort himself." She shifted her weight from foot to foot, letting her gaze rest on anything but the teacher and her fellow student. _Please stop talking about Death Eaters_, she thought imploringly. _Anything but Death Eaters_.

"Well, enough about that. I'm sure you've figured out the coin by now, Enjolras," Longbottom said, and Éponine let out a barely audible sigh of relief.

"It's a Galleon with what I assume is a Protean Charm on it," the seventh year said, glancing at Éponine, but she looked away quickly. At Longbottom's nod to the seventh year, Enjolras continued. "Instead of the goblin serial number, a time and date are on the edge, which if I were to hazard a guess, I would say is information for Dumbledore's Army meetings."

"Very good," Longbottom said. "I would tell you both more about it, but you did come here for detention, not to hear me talk. Now, we're going to prepare the Mandrakes for the second years..."

* * *

"Éponine?"

"Yes?" she replied to Enjolras' question as they left Longbottom's office.

"You seemed tense while the professor was talking," he said.

"And?" she retorted defensively.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"And since when was that any of your concern?" Éponine replied. She knew he was only trying to help, but she couldn't let him know about her connection to the Death Eaters. His discovery of that information would ruin any shred of friendship she had with him.

"Friends notice things like that," Enjolras replied.

"So we're friends," she said in what was supposed to be a sarcastic and definitely rhetorical statement.

"I believe so," he said, and she had no response.

"Would you like me to walk you to your common room?" he asked.

"No," she said, needing to clear her head and process their conversation. "No, but thanks anyway."

"Goodnight, Éponine," he said.

"'Night," she replied, and watched him leave.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: To tinmiss1939, who hoped that Éponine would catch a break soon – it won't happen in this chapter. **

**To Deep Forest Green, who commented that "it was very jarring to read about the two sets of characters interacting. Les Mis magic enough." – I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to be jarring, as you said. I actually considered making this a crossover between Les Mis and HP, but the fourth chapter was the only one where HP characters are directly involved; the rest of the fic will be all Les Mis characters. I didn't mean to offset your reading. **

**Éponine's Death Eater connection is explained in this chapter.**

**I forgot to mention that the genres for this fic have been altered, though some of you may have already noticed the change. Romance is still one of the genres, as this will end up Enjonine, but friendship was changed to drama. You'll figure out why in this chapter.**

* * *

Éponine carried her small bag of meager belongings across the Hogsmeade train station to the express that would take the students to London, making her way through the crowd as snow swirled in the air. Boarding the train, she began the long trek to the back, knowing from experience that her travels would be much less awkward if she sat alone. Finding the very last compartment on the train empty, she took a seat, shutting the door behind her. A couple of minutes after she had settled in, however, she heard footsteps, and looked up to see Enjolras opening the glass door.

"Mind if I sit here?"

She shook her head. As he took a seat across from her in the compartment, leaving the door open behind him, she said, "Where are the rest of your friends?"

"Trying to see who will throw up first from eating too much candy."

"I can see why you left. Let me guess, Courfeyrac started the competition?" At Enjolras' nod, she smirked. "I'm not surprised."

"What are your plans for the holidays?" he asked.

"See family," she replied vaguely. "What about you?"

"The same. I'll probably visit Combeferre sometime during the holiday. Are you going to travel at all?"

She shook her head. _It's not like we could afford to go anywhere_. "You?"

"I doubt it. My mother has relatives in France, but I don't believe we're going to visit this Christmas."

"Where do they live? In France, I mean."

"Montpellier, in the south."

"Did any of them go to Beauxbatons?" Éponine asked. _Are there any other magic schools in France?_

"They did," Enjolras replied. "My cousin currently attends the school."

"Oh."

Unable to think of anything else to add to the topic, Éponine pulled out a book from her bag – a Muggle one, _A Tale of Two Cities_ by Charles Dickens – and read for a while, leaving Enjolras to his own devices. But her reading was interrupted just as the trolley-lady came past their shared compartment.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" the woman said, looking in the open doorway.

"Do you want anything?" Enjolras asked Éponine.

"I'm fine," she said, knowing she probably didn't have enough money with her and wanting to save it for something other than sweets.

"I can pay for it," he offered.

"Really, it's alright," she replied, but just then her stomach growled. Her cheeks turned red as she remembered she hadn't eaten breakfast that day while trying to make sure Gavroche had been packed.

"I'll take two Cauldron Cakes and two pumpkin pastries, please," he said, reaching into his pocket for the money, and Éponine decided not to protest again against her stomach's desires. She took her share of the pastries from Enjolras and ate each quickly, still feeling hungry afterwards but refusing to ask for more charity.

"I'll pay you back," she offered.

"There's no need-"

"I'll get it to you after Christmas holidays," she said firmly. Avoiding Enjolras' gaze, she opened her book and lost herself in the world Charles Dickens had crafted.

The next few hours passed in relative silence. Éponine, who had already started _A Tale of Two Cities_ before she had even left Hogwarts, finished the book just as the train pulled into King's Cross. Stowing her book in her bag, she slipped out of the compartment before Enjolras even finished standing, making her way through the crowds in the corridors and avoiding eye contact with the people around her as religiously as they did to her. Exiting the train, she scanned the crowd to see her sister and brother standing together as they gathered their belongings. Just as she was about to make her way across the station to her siblings, Éponine felt a hand touch her elbow and a voice say her name. Turning quickly, she saw Enjolras, and her quickened heart rate slowed.

"I wanted to give you something before we parted ways," he explained, reaching into his coat pocket. Éponine briefly wondered if he had bought her a present – _it _is_ Christmas time, after all _– but banished the utterly absurd thought as he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her.

"This is my address," Enjolras said. "If you ever need anything, you can come by at any time. You and your siblings are more than welcome."

"You're implying I can't take care of my siblings without outside help?" she said shortly, indignation flaring in her chest.

"No," he said, and looked her in the eye. "But do they need taking care of?"

She understood the words he left unspoken. He was all but asking if her home was so dysfunctional that a sixteen-year-old had to take care of her siblings while her parents were unable to fill the role.

It was all true.

"Happy Christmas, Enjolras," she said curtly, turning and moving into the crowd.

"Éponine," he said, but she was already across the station, gathering her siblings and starting to herd them away.

She was too far away to hear the quiet "Happy Christmas" that fell from his lips.

* * *

Being a year too young and without a legal license to Apparate herself or her siblings and so to make their travels easier, Éponine, Gavroche, and Azelma took the Knight Bus to Knockturn Alley. Instructing her siblings to stay close together, she led them through the winding streets of the wizarding community to a small apartment in a shadowed corner of the Alley.

"We're home!" Éponine called as they went through the door. As Azelma and Gavroche went further into the apartment, a tall figure passed them and appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen, effectively blocking Éponine's path.

"Miss me?"

Montparnasse leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he gave her a smirk. Returning it with a glare, she said, "How'd you get here so fast?"

"I Apparated," he said. "As I'm of age, unlike you, I didn't have to walk."

"You actually waited until the legal age to learn? Well, there's always a first time for everything," she said sarcastically.

"Watch your mouth, Thénardier," he said sharply.

"Piss off," she said, "or I'll give you another Knockback Jinx. Feel like meeting another wall?"

"What's going on here?"

Éponine looked from Montparnasse to see Mrs. Thénardier. "Hello, mother."

"What took you so long to get here?" the witch demanded. Éponine opened her mouth to answer, but Mrs. Thénardier cut her off. "Your father wants to speak with you. He's in the kitchen. Move your arse, lazy brat." Éponine brushed past her mother, not even granting the witch a passing glance as she did so, and caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark tattoo on the inside of Thénardier's wrist as she strode into the room.

It had been years since the Dark Lord's defeat, but his followers had not disappeared completely after his demise. Thénardier and his wife were part of the movement to continue Voldemort's work of purifying the wizarding race. They had turned in two people to their leaders, but they were not the ones to actually deal with the Muggleborns. Éponine and her siblings of course had no problem with Muggleborns or non-human magical beings, but their parents certainly did. This fact was a major reason in Éponine's desire to never reveal her heritage to anyone at Hogwarts, though it was still talked about around the school.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked as she took a firm stance before the table where her father sat. She had learned to appear as confident as she could before her father, a practice that had saved her from (some) beatings from the man who would slap her as soon as greet her.

"That's no way to greet your father," Thénardier said.

"What do you want?" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Now that you're actually home, I need you to do something for me."

She gave him a both expectant and exasperated look. "Go on. I don't have all day."

Thénardier glared at her. "Don't back talk me. Now, I'm making a business deal with a client. A _very_ important client."

"And?"

"To make sure he goes through with the deal, I need you make sure he feels _welcome_," her father said, emphasizing the last word with a suggestive tone.

Éponine stared at Thénardier. "You want me to sleep with him."

He nodded.

"Absolutely not."

"You'll do what I say, girl," Thénardier growled, moving to stand.

"No."

"It's time you earned your keep."

"I've stolen and lied for you my entire life, but this is too far. I won't do it."

"If you won't, I'm sure he'll appreciate your sister," he said in a warning tone as he stood and moved in front of her, looking down at her. Thénardier was a foot taller than Éponine, but she refused to back down.

"She's _fifteen_. That's barbaric."

"If you refuse, it goes to her. Make your choice."

"You let him touch her and I promise you, _I will kill you_," Éponine snarled.

Before she could blink, Thénardier had whipped out his wand out of his pocket and aimed at his daughter.

"_Crucio_!"

* * *

Azelma bolted out of her room the moment she heard a body hit the floor, her sister's agonized cries filling the apartment. The fifteen-year-old shoved past Montparnasse as he stood in the doorway, staring in shock at the sight before him. Azelma briefly wondered if this showed that the older boy had a heart, however hard, but turned her focus back to the chaos in the kitchen.

Éponine was on the floor, writhing in torment as Thénardier stood over her, watching her scream. He didn't look remorseful, but at least he wasn't laughing manically. His wife looked stunned but did nothing. As Azelma reached her sister, Thénardier turned his wand to his youngest daughter.

Suddenly Montparnasse's fist connected with Thénardier's face, sending the older wizard to the floor. The connection between his wand and his daughter ended, leaving Éponine sobbing on the floor, her entire body trembling and limbs curled into the fetal position.

Thénardier, however, was not about to be beaten down by a single punch, and turned his wand on Montparnasse. The young man dodged Thénardier's curses, sending a few of his own; various objects in the room exploded as the two wizards dueled, leaving Éponine the opportunity to drag her sister out of the kitchen into the hall. Mrs. Thénardier was nowhere in sight.

Gavroche appeared, terror in his eyes, and Azelma yelled for him to retrieve the broom. The boy immediately ran, disappearing into the room the siblings shared, and Azelma tried to get Éponine to stand. Her sister staggered to her feet with Azelma's help as Gavroche reappeared, dragging the broom behind him.

"Open the front door!" Azelma ordered, raising her voice over the sounds of the continuing duel in the kitchen. She helped her sister swing a leg over the broom, mounting the broom herself before her sister so she could guide it and instructing her sister to hold onto her as tight as she possibly could.

A heavy thud sounded in the kitchen just as Gavroche ran back to his sisters after pushing open the door. Thénardier came running into the hall, wand raised the moment his son jumped on the broom behind Éponine and Azelma. Terror as cold as ice coursing through her veins, Azelma aimed the broom towards the door and took off, leaving her father and the apartment behind.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Having the Thénardiers live in Knockturn Alley means that in this story Marius and Éponine were never neighbors, meeting instead for the first time at Hogwarts, as explained in the first chapter. For reference, in the **_**eyes turned skyward**_** universe, Marius still lives with his (Muggle) grandfather. **

**Again, with the Les Mis characters now British instead of France, it's Mrs. Thénardier in this story, not Madame. It weirds me out too, but I have to be consistent in the setting. **

**On another note, it seems Montparnasse has a heart after all…**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: In the HP books and movies, it seems that the aftereffects of the Crutiartus Curse are surprisingly minimal, but I'm going to make it a bit more severe for the purpose of plot development. **

**Enjolras' parents make their entrance in this chapter. By the way, for those who wondered, no, Montparnasse is not dead. **

**Thank you once more for all the reviews! I truly appreciate it.**

* * *

Azelma landed the broom in a side street in Diagon Alley, reaching behind her to keep Éponine upright. Her sister was not as shaken as before, but she still seemed a bit unsteady as she dismounted the broom, reaching out to steady herself against a wall.

"Where are we going to go?" Gavroche questioned, speaking for the first time since leaving the apartment.

"I don't know," Azelma admitted.

Silence fell between the siblings. The fifteen-year-old racked her brain for a solution, a place to hide, but nothing came to mind. In the heat of their escape, there had been no time to pack clothes or money, so staying in the Three Broomsticks was out of the question. With Knockturn Alley being an offshoot of Diagon Alley, the inn was far too close to their home for safety purposes, anyway; they would be found before the day was out.

"I know a place," Éponine said, her voice quiet. Azelma, who had never seen anyone being tortured with the Crutiartus Curse or its aftereffects, was shocked to hear her sister so weak. Éponine put a hand in her pocket, her movements slow as if she was afraid that quick movement would cause pain, and withdrew a piece of paper. "Enjolras gave me his address when I was leaving King's Cross," she explained. "He said we could come by anytime, that we were more than welcome…"

As Éponine trailed off, Azelma saw some rare trepidation appear in the older witch's eyes. Her sister, always confident, always sure of herself, who always knew what to do, always self-sufficient, was unable to rely on herself anymore, and it was clear that frightened Éponine, to be so vulnerable and needing to rely on others. She leaned against the alley wall, drained.

"Let's go there," Gavroche said. "Enjolras will know what to do."

"Yes, he'll know what to do," Éponine mumbled under her breath, and Azelma had to reach out to stop her sister from falling as Éponine's knees started to give way beneath her. Scared for the older girl's physical and even mental well-being, Azelma helped her onto the broom as Gavroche climbed on, took the address from Éponine, and lifted off.

* * *

Azelma had known Enjolras came from a wealthy family, but nothing could have prepared her for the estate they came to an hour later. Towering, iron wrought gates stood before a paved drive leading to what could only be described as a mansion. Ivy grew up the cream-hued walls, the diamond-paned windows catching the dusk light. The building all but had the words wealth, money, and prestige written on its walls.

The front door opened to reveal a House-elf who started up at them with wide blue eyes. "Can Maisy help the visitors?" she asked in a high-pitched voice.

"We're here to see Enjolras," Azelma said, realizing she had never learned the seventh year's first name.

"The master Enjolras?" Maisy asked, confused.

"Gabriel," Éponine offered from her position of leaning against her younger sister. Azelma did not question how the older girl knew Enjolras' name.

"Who shall Maisy say is calling?"

"Éponine and her siblings," the oldest witch replied.

"Tell him it's urgent," Azelma added.

"Wait here while Maisy brings master Gabriel," the House-elf said. Azelma put her arm around Éponine's waist as the older witch leaned further still into her, exhaustion clear on her features as her dark hair fell onto her face.

Maisy returned a minute later with Enjolras, who took one look at Éponine's weak frame and moved forward to help Azelma support her sister's weight. When Éponine did not protest, Azelma's worry grew.

"What happened?" he immediately asked.

"Crutiartus Curse," Azelma replied.

"Who did it?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but was given no chance to speak as two people swept into the grand foyer, wands in hand.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" the man demanded. She knew he must be Enjolras' father, as the wizard shared nearly identical features with his son. His gray-peppered curls, however, were a golden-brown, nearly chestnut, contrasting his son's golden hair.

"Who are these people?" the woman asked, her long hair, the same shade as her son's, falling to her waist. Azelma guessed the witch was Enjolras' mother, the woman's piercing blue gaze the same as her son's eyes. But she had no more time to dwell on the similarities in the Enjolras family as the older boy spoke.

"This is my friend and schoolmate, Éponine," he explained, "and her siblings, Azelma and Gavroche. They needed somewhere to stay, and I offered our home to them."

"Why on earth would you-" his mother hissed, but her son interrupted.

"Éponine has just been tortured with an Unforgivable Curse, and is in need of rest, if not medical attention. There's no need for you to _sacrifice_ a guest bedroom for someone in need," Enjolras said coldly and disdainfully, giving his mother a hard look as she glared at him. "I'll give her mine. Now, if there's nothing else you would care to complain about, we'll be going."

Azelma followed Enjolras as they supported Éponine to the stairs, Gavroche trailing behind.

* * *

"If I had more training in Apparation, I could have gotten her up here more quickly," Enjolras explained as he and Azelma helped Éponine into his bed, the sixth year's eyes heavy with exhaustion. "But I didn't want to risk splinching."

Azelma nodded but said nothing, watching as Éponine sank further into the pillows, wrapping her arms around herself as if in protection, and the younger witch's heart went out to her sister.

"What exactly happened?" Enjolras asked, turning to Azelma.

"I don't know the details," she admitted. "You'll have to ask Éponine when she wakes up. But I do know that our father used the curse on her."

"Your father?"

She nodded.

He looked at Gavroche, who was seated on an armchair next to the bed, broom gripped tightly in his grasp, and Enjolras glanced back Azelma. "Are you two alright?"

"Physically, yes," the witch began.

"But it was pretty scary seeing 'Ponine hurtin' like that," Gavroche finished. "But 'Parnasse stopped him."

"Montparnasse?" Enjolras asked.

"The same," Azelma said. "He's our neighbor back home. I didn't know he actually had a heart, but apparently he's not a complete ass all the time. He stepped in at the last minute, anyway."

Enjolras was contemplative for a moment, watching Éponine as she finally fell asleep. "I have a question," Gavroche said from his perch on the futon at the foot of the bed.

"Ask away."

"If you're so big on freedom and all that, why do you have a House-elf?"

"Gavroche," Azelma chastened her brother, but Enjolras spoke.

"That is a valid question. My father owns Maisy," he explained, his expression darkening slightly, and Azelma caught a glimpse of the wizard's famous dislike of slavery, inequality, and injustice. "He is the only one who could free her," Enjolras continued. "Upon his death, Maisy's ownership will pass to my mother. Once they both have died, I will have ownership. The first thing I will do upon receiving that will be to free her, of course, but as much I want to do so, I'm not going to kill my parents to get it."

* * *

Azelma was positive she had never felt so awkward in her entire life as Enjolras' parents watched Gavroche and herself eat in their elaborate kitchen. Enjolras himself was with them, making the situation slightly more bearable, but she avoided his mother's critical gaze and his father's cold one. His parents' didn't deny them a meal, but Azelma could tell they had kept their fine china hidden and instructed Maisy to bring out their most inexpensive dining ware. To Azelma, it was still elaborate, but the plates were chipped in a couple places and the silverware was dull. She was sure they were just waiting for her or Gavroche to steal something.

"Miss Azelma," his mother began, breaking the incredibly awkward silence. "You attend Hogwarts with my son, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am," Azelma replied. "I'm in my fifth year, and Gavroche is in his first. Our sister's a sixth year."

"How interesting," his mother replied dryly.

"In our first meeting, as unconventional as it was, I don't believe we ever caught your full names," his father interjected. The look on his face told Azelma that he testing to see if they were worthy enough in the wizarding hierarchy to even sit in the Enjolras' kitchen.

"Thénardier," Gavroche replied before Azelma could come up with a less incriminating surname.

Enjolras' father's gaze grew hard. "Thénardier, you say?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, looking him straight in the eye, knowing there was no point in trying to hide anything at that point.

"Surely your parents aren't the Death Eaters continuing the work of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" his mother asked in what was supposed to be a disbelieving tone, but it was clear she already knew the answer, just waiting for Azelma to reply in the affirmative so she could throw the siblings out on the street.

"The same," Azelma replied. "And our father was also the one to give our sister the Crutiartus Curse. That's why we left." She met Enjolras' mother's gaze evenly, seeing a flicker of shock appear in the woman's blue gaze before disappearing.

"Éponine might have woken by now," Enjolras said, speaking for the first time since his parent's interrogation of the siblings. "I'm sure she'll want to see a familiar face after everything that's happened." He looked down at Maisy, asking, "Could you take our guests to see their sister?"

"Yes, master," the House-elf said with a half bow. "If the guests would follow Maisy, Maisy will take them upstairs."

* * *

Éponine woke to find herself in a cocoon of blankets, warmth encompassing her entire body as her dark hair splayed across the pillow her face was half-buried in. Her limbs were pulled up as if in protection - from what she did not know - but she had never felt so safe as she did in this bed.

Except this wasn't her bed, and she had no idea where she was.

But then all the memories came rushing back. Just remembering the past few hours - was it only that? - that felt like years made her finally open her eyes to see Gavroche's worried face.

"'Ponine?" he said.

"Gav," she said in a voice hoarse from both previously screaming and now disuse.

"'Zelma?" the boy said, turning to the door. "'Zelma!"

"What's wrong?" the witch in question asked as she hurried into the room, worry in her eyes. But the look dissipated into relief as she saw that her sister had woken, and Azelma moved to the side of the bed. "You're awake, 'Ponine," she said in a relieved tone. "Gav, find Enjolras," Azelma said, and he ran out the door. "Do you feel up to telling us what happened?" she asked Éponine. When her sister did not respond, Azelma pressed, "We all but invaded Enjolras' home. He deserves to know..."

"Fine," Éponine said, and began to move into a sitting position. Azelma helped her lean back against the pillows as Enjolras and Gavroche returned, a serious expression on the seventh year's features.

_Of course he's not going to be worried about you_, she told herself. _He'll probably kick you to the curb when you tell him everything that's happened..._

"I'm glad to see you awake, Éponine," Enjolras said, taking a seat at the futon at the foot of the bed, Gavroche sitting beside him. "Do you need anything?"

"Water-" she began, but her voice cracked before she could finish with _would be nice_, or something to that effect.

"I already filled a glass before you woke," he replied as Azelma took the glass from the nightstand beside the bed. Éponine - with her sister's help, as her own limbs were still a bit weak - drank greedily, feeling slightly awkward with all eyes in the room on her.

"Éponine," Enjolras began, leaning forward on his seat and resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped before him, "I realize this is rather soon, and if you are too tired to explain, I understand. However, I and your siblings need to know what exactly happened between you and your father. We can't help you unless we know the truth."

Éponine met Enjolras' gaze, knowing it would only do more harm than good to withhold information.

"When we went home after leaving King's Cross," she began, choosing her words carefully as she fixed her gaze on her hands folded in her lap, "my mother told me my father wanted to speak with me. He told me that he had a client coming over, probably someone looking to discuss continuing the Dark Lord's work." She risked a glance at Enjolras, expecting to see revulsion on his features, but he only nodded for her to continue.

"He asked me to make the client feel welcome," she continued, drawing her knees to her chest. "He wanted me to sleep with the client to make sure he closed the deal."

Éponine drew in a breath, not daring to look at Enjolras. "I refused, but he told me that if I didn't do it, he'd put the job on Azelma. I told him that I would kill him if he let the client touch Azelma, and that's when he gave me the curse."

The room was silent.

"If there is anything I can do, let me know," Enjolras said after a moment. "I'll leave you to rest."

Despite herself, Éponine's heart sank as he left the room.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it wasn't very important in the chapter, but I wanted to explain Enjolras' view of House-elves. I kind of made up the part about ownership passing between family members, as there wasn't a lot of information I could find about House-elf ownership. If Enjolras had lived during the time when the Golden Trio attended Hogwarts, I'm positive he would have been in S.P.E.W.**

**On a completely _Harry Potter_-related note - is anyone else ecstatic about the _Fantastic Beasts_ movie? It's like HP meets _Great Gatsby_. **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: ShipperBody, your comments blew me away. I couldn't ask for a better reviewer. I'm so glad you enjoyed this story. About your desire to see a confrontation between Éponine and Enjolras' mother – I had this chapter written before you asked for that, and forgive me, but it didn't really work in the chapter. Sorry!**

**Everyone, I apologize for the late update.**

* * *

Enjolras sat at the mahogany writing desk in the family library, quill in hand and parchment before him as Clifton, an Eagle Owl, sat on a perch beside him.

_Combeferre,_

_I am writing to you for advice for a difficult situation that I have come to be involved in. It is of upmost importance that the information I am about to divulge remains between the two of us and reaches no one else._

_This morning, Éponine Thénardier, her sister Azelma, and brother Gavroche arrived by broom at my front door, asking for sanctuary. You remember Éponine, correct? The Slytherin who is a friend of Marius and Grantaire? _

_Her father has used the __Crutiartus Curse on her because she refused to have intercourse with a client of his. When she told him as such, he informed her that her fifteen-year-old sister would be the one to have relations with the client. Éponine threatened to kill her father in defense of her sister, should the client touch Azelma, and that's when he, her father, used the curse. She and her siblings were able to get away, but Éponine is still weak._

_Éponine's parents are also part of the movement to continue Voldemort's work, though of course our fellow students are not involved. Upon hearing this, my parents were very displeased and are showing the least amount of hospitality possible. I am certain they would have turned Éponine away if I were not here. I managed to convince my parents' to let them stay, but I don't know how long they will be willing to provide sanctuary. _

_I am asking for your advice on how I should deal with this situation. I desire to help Éponine recover and provide protection for all of them, but my parents are ready to throw them out on the street with nowhere to go at a moment's notice. On one hand, all of the resources I could provide are here, keeping us dependent on my parents' limited hospitality. On the other hand, I cannot condone their treatment of those who need protection. Please reply as quickly as you can, as I am unsure of how long this arrangement will last._

_Enjolras _

He put the parchment in an envelope, sealed it with the Enjolras family crest, and held out an arm to the owl. As Clifton stepped onto his arm, he carried it across the room to a window. Opening the window with his free hand as the bird took the letter in its beak, the Eagle Owl lifted off his arm and soared out the window on silent wings.

* * *

Clifton returned half an hour later with Combeferre's reply.

_Enjolras,_

_This sounds like a very difficult situation indeed. I wish I could pay you a visit to tell you this in person, but alas, I am unable to do so. The written word is more private, however, and suits your need to keep our conversation quiet._

_The situation that Éponine and her brother and sister came from sounds dangerous and decidedly unhealthy for their well-being as a whole. I wish that she would have told someone sooner about what was going on, but you and I both know she was a very private person._

_You are doing the right thing in opening your home to them, but your parents are bordering on being in the wrong. Knowing the little I do about your parents, I would say you are not far off the mark when you say they are looking for an opportunity to throw them out on the streets. _

_You have mentioned over the course of our friendship that you wished to be free of your parents' control and wanted to create your own life away from them. I do believe this time is now. You are now of age at seventeen, and are free to make your own choices. You are more than capable of living on your own, and I am of the opinion that you will thrive being apart from your parents._

_As what to do with Éponine and her siblings – I strongly urge you not to let them return to their parents; I doubt they will want to go back, but make sure their parents cannot reach them. I do not believe in making other people's choices for them, but I suggest that you take them and leave. Go wherever you wish, but leave._

_Combeferre_

Enjolras folded the parchment and tossed it into the fireplace, knowing better than to leave it for his parents to discover. He stood before the hearth, watching the flames lick at the paper as he contemplated his closest friend's words. Turning, he saw his father standing in the doorway.

Gabriel Enjolras III's features were set, his mouth in a firm line. The older wizard had half an inch on his son in height, his expensive black and purple robes accenting his long frame.

"Gabriel," his father said.

"If you would excuse me, I need to check on Éponine," Enjolras began as he passed his father in the doorway, but the older man reached out and restrained his son, gripping the seventeen-year-old's arm.

"That's precisely who I want to discuss with you," his father said. "Sit." The wizard released his son and moved further into the room. Turning, Enjolras remained standing but faced his father, who was now standing before the fireplace; thankfully, the parchment amidst the logs was burned beyond recognition.

His father turned to face him. "Aren't you going to sit?"

"I prefer standing."

The older wizard looked faintly annoyed, but changed topics. "Your charity is admirable, but they need to go."

"Éponine was attacked by her own father. Surely that justifies mercy-"

"I will not stand to have the children of Death Eaters in my home."

"They don't support their parents' views. Furthermore, they have been here for less than two hours. You can't throw them out-"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Gabriel," his father said in a warning tone, striding towards his son. Enjolras refused to back down as the older wizard stopped right in front of him.

"She is injured. Your decision is bordering on cruel-"

"Enough!" his father shouted. "You have no right to tell me what my decisions signify. Now, go upstairs and tell them they have to leave. _Now_."

Enjolras met his father's gaze, rage building in his chest. "No."

"What did you just say?" his father replied after a moment.

"No. I won't do it."

"Gabriel, I am _ordering_ you to make them leave."

"I refuse."

Enjolras' head was whipped to the side as his father backhanded him, the older wizard's ring cutting into the skin on his cheekbone. Enjolras turned his head to look up at his father.

"The fact that we share blood does not mean I will call you father. I renounce your home as my own."

He Disapparated.

* * *

He saw Éponine jump as he Apparated into the room, Azelma and Gavroche turning quickly.

"Do you feel well enough for travel, Éponine?" he asked, going to his wardrobe and opening it, dragging out a trunk.

"Somewhat. Why?" she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as he began Summoning clothes and putting them in the trunk. "Why do you have a cut on your face?"

"I do not have time to explain," he apologized. "My parents do not wish to extend any more charity to those in need."

"So you're kicking us out?" Éponine said, sounding hurt. Enjolras turned to see her trying to look unaffected, but it wasn't working all too well.

"In a way, yes," he said, "but they didn't expect me to join you."

"You're leaving?" Azelma questioned as Éponine stared at him.

"Yes." He slammed the trunk shut and lifted it by the handle. "Éponine, do you think you could handle Apparation, or shall we take the Knight Bus?"

"Apparation's fine," she said, moving to stand, but wavered a bit, still weak. Enjolras reached out a hand to steady her, grasping her shoulder, and she looked away from him.

"The Knight Bus will be acceptable if you need it-"

"Just Apparate," she snapped, but bit her lip. "Sorry. You've done so much for us already. I didn't really get a chance to thank-"

"Gabriel!" his mother cried, sweeping into the room. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"Everyone hold hands," Enjolras ordered, taking Éponine's in his own. The moment Gavroche and Azelma were linked to the others', Enjolras' father came into the room, raising his wand.

The fury in his father's eyes was the last Enjolras saw before they Disapperated.

* * *

Enjolras found himself and the Thénardiers standing just inside the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron, hands still clasped. He released Éponine's hand to catch her as she staggered, helping her to stand upright before wrapping an arm around her slender waist. As all eyes in the room turned to them, he helped her to the front desk, Azelma and Gavroche following.

"Could you help her, please?" he asked Éponine's sister, and Azelma nodded. Releasing his hold on Éponine, Enjolras made sure that she was fully supported by Azelma before facing the witch behind the desk.

"One room. Preferably the largest you have."

"That'll be seven Galleons," the woman said. "You alright, miss?" she asked Éponine, who was leaning into Azelma.

"She's getting over dragon pox," Enjolras supplied quickly. "But she's not contagious anymore. Which room is it?"

"Twenty, on the second floor. There's two beds. Here's the key," the witch said, placing a key on the desk. Enjolras took it and moved away from the desk, looking back over his shoulder to ensure that Éponine was still upright.

"Dragon pox?" Éponine said in a low voice as they took a seat at the main table in the middle of the room behind the front desk. "She didn't look like she believed that for a second."

"Those with dragon pox have a greenish hue to their skin in the very last stages," he countered. "You appeared to be slightly nauseated after Apparating. Dragon pox was the first thing I could think of."

"You never told me what happened to your face," she asked, raising her voice to a normal level.

"My father was none too pleased when I announced I was leaving," he said, meeting her gaze.

"So he hit you." She did not say the phrase as a question, but a statement.

At his nod, she gave him a grim smile. "Join the club." Enjolras wanted to ask her about the meaning behind her words, but she looked away, and he refrained, making a mental note to talk to her later.

They ate dinner in near silence, Éponine once again promising to pay him back, which resulted in a minor disagreement in which Enjolras won by telling her that a gentleman paid for dinner. She grew quiet at that, but he could not understand why that simple phrase had silenced her.

When they went up to the room, the door opened to reveal a fairly large room occupied with two queen-sized beds. "Éponine, what arrangement would you prefer?" Enjolras asked, turning to the witch.

She looked mildly surprised. _Because I asked for her opinion?_ he wondered. _Is that so rare an occurrence for her that it merits disbelief? _

"Uh, 'Zelma and I can share a bed," Éponine said. "And that leaves you and Gav."

"Fair enough," he conceded. "I'll step into the hall while you change-"

"There's no need for you to be so noble," she replied. When he gave her a sharp look, confused, she explained, "We have nothing to change into."

"Oh." Enjolras swallowed. "I have some extra shirts you can wear. It will be temporary, of course-" When Éponine raised an eyebrow, he continued quickly. "Until you buy more clothes, that is."

She nodded, and he went to open his trunk, pulling out two long-sleeved white shirts that he normally wore during the school terms and handing them to the witches. "They'll be several sizes too large on you," he explained to the sisters, "but they'll have to do. However, I don't believe I have anything that would remotely fit Gavroche…"

"You could try a shrinking spell," Éponine offered. "But you might never be able to return the shirt to its exact original size."

"It's alright," Gavroche said with a shrug. "I don't mind sleepin' in my clothes."

There was a moment of near-awkward silence, and then Enjolras went to the door. "Tell me when to come back in after you've changed," he said as he went out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

He leaned against the wall outside the room, taking his pocket watch out of his pocket and running his thumb over the glass encircled in gold as he heard Azelma's muffled voice through the door.

"Do you want any help?"

"I'm fine," came Éponine's reply. Enjolras heard clothes rustling.

"Are you sure? You look a bit unsteady-" Azelma's words were cut off by the sound of stumbling steps as someone in the room – Enjolras guessed Éponine – tried to catch themselves from falling. Without thinking, he almost opened the door, but stopped himself.

"The moment you're changed, go straight to bed," Azelma said firmly, but her worry was evident. "Let me help, or you'll fall over."

He heard clothes hit the floor and immediately stared intently at his watch to keep his thoughts focused.

"You can come in, Enjolras," Azelma called, and he opened the door to see the younger witch helping her sister into the bed closest to the door.

"Would it be alright if we turned in early?" he asked, keeping his features schooled in a carefully serious expression as he got into the right side of the bed; Gavroche was already partially concealed under the blankets, the boy half-asleep.

"Sounds good to me," Azelma replied, climbing into her side of the bed. Éponine, to Enjolras' discomfort, was on the left, meaning that he had an excellent view of the dark-haired witch. Enjolras placed his wand on the nightstand beside Éponine, Azelma, and Gavroche's wands, and blew out the candle in between the beds, and the room was plunged into darkness.

A shaft of moonlight fell on Éponine, the right half of her face illuminated while the other was shadowed. She lay on her side, facing him as she began to fall asleep, her dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks. Just when Enjolras thought she had succumbed to the thralls of dreams, her eyes opened and met his own.

He immediately shifted so he lay on his back, staring up at the low ceiling.

_Merlin_.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know, Enjolras is a bit out of character in this chapter, but he has to be for Enjonine to work at all. I'm not terribly happy with this chapter, but I wanted to put up something.**


End file.
